Under the Mistletoe
by EmyPink
Summary: A pushy old lady, mistletoe and an old Christmas tradition may be the push Ziva and McGee need . . .


**Under the Mistletoe**

By EmyPink

_Written for Barbara (iheartGibbs) as a thank you for running the NFA Secret Santa 2008 _

**Disclaimer**: I do not own NCIS; I just borrow the characters

**Rating:** PG

**Parings:** McGiva

**Genres:** Fluff, Romance

**Warnings:** None

**Summary: **A pushy old lady, mistletoe and an old Christmas tradition may be the push Ziva and McGee need . . .

**-O-O-O-O-**

Tony was watching the clock in the right hand corner of his computer monitor. It was Christmas Eve and he was counting down the minutes until team Gibbs officially clocked off for the holidays.

"Only three hours, nine minutes and twenty seconds till freedom!" Tony announced to Ziva and McGee who, unlike Tony, were doing actual work and finishing off their paperwork.

"Are you still watching that clock, Tony?" Ziva rolled her eyes and said, "A watched clock never ticks."

"It's a watched pot never boils, Zee-vah," Tony corrected.

Ziva shrugged. "I do not see you watching a pot, yes. You are watching a clock, therefore . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Miss Smarty Pants," Tony grumbled, swinging his feet onto his desk. "You don't have to be so literal."

He turned to McGee. "So, McMerryChristmas, what are you doing over the holidays?" he asked nosily.

"Firstly, it really is none of your business, Tony," McGee replied, looking up from his paperwork, "but if you must know, I'm going back home with Sarah."

"Never could stand family Christmases," Tony proclaimed loudly.

"Well, I'm not you, am I," McGee retorted. "I _like _family Christmases."

"Well, duh, you're Probie," Tony said jovially. "Probie the McFamilyMan."

McGee rolled his eyes and directed his next comment to Ziva. "He must be really bored."

"I think he is losing it," Ziva replied. "Perhaps all those head slaps have caused him some brain damage." She paused thoughtfully. "Could be an improvement."

"Hey! I'm right here, you know," Tony huffed. "I can hear you."

"Oh, I know," Ziva smirked and grinned at McGee.

Tony glared at the pair. "Well, that's not very nice," he complained.

"Do I care?" Ziva replied loftily.

"You're mean, David," Tony pouted, like a child.

Ziva sighed and rolled her eyes. She pushed back her chair and stood. "I am going for coffee. Would anyone like anything?"

Tony shook his head, still sulking. McGee, on the other hand, said,

"I might, uh, accompany you, if that's okay." He blushed faintly. "I need to get out of the office before _he_ drives me insane."

"Is this pick on Tony day or something?" Tony grumbled.

"I would go with the or something," Ziva replied with a sweet smile. "And of course you may accompany me, McGee."

"Great." McGee flew out of his chair, grabbed his coat and hurried to the entrance of the bullpen. "Coming?"

Ziva laughed. "You must really want to be rid of Tony." She caught Tony's scowl and grinned as she picked up her own jacket and walked over to McGee.

"After you." McGee gestured for Ziva to exit first.

"Thank you," Ziva smiled, shooting a look at Tony over the dividers. "See Tony, chivalry."

Tony responded maturing by sticking out his tongue and folding his arms.

"Shall we go?" Ziva asked McGee.

McGee nodded and bravely offered Ziva his arm, looking a little nervous. Ziva accepted it with a flirty smile and they strolled over to the elevator, leaving a gobsmacked Tony behind.

**-O-O-O-O-**

McGee and Ziva laughed as they entered their local coffee shop. During the brisk walk in the chilly air, their conversation had turned to the next _Harry Potter_ movie and Ziva was laughing at an observation that McGee had made about the previous movie.

"I have never thought of it like that," Ziva laughed as they joined the end of the cue.

McGee slipped his arm out of Ziva's. "We should go and see it when it comes out," McGee suggested, without realising what he had said.

Ziva smirked. "Are you asking me out, McGee?"

McGee blushed bright red. "Uh, erm, no, not at all . . . friends?" he spluttered.

Ziva looked amused by McGee tongue-tied response. "I did not quite catch that," she teased.

"Oh, uh, as friends," McGee repeated quickly. "Just as friends."

Even though McGee did not notice it, Ziva looked slightly disappointed, but said anyway, "I would like that. As friends."

"Of course," McGee nodded rapidly, "just two friends enjoying a movie." He, too, was a little disappointed.

"Of course," Ziva echoed softly.

"Then it's a, erm, date . . ." McGee confirmed, giving Ziva a weak smile. "Not that it's . . ."

"I know, McGee," Ziva responded. They paused awkwardly as Ziva and McGee shuffled along the line, getting closer to being served.

Suddenly, an elderly woman standing behind them nudged Ziva and pointed to the ceiling. She smiled wickedly, having heard their conversation. Ziva looked up.

Mistletoe.

McGee followed Ziva's gaze and his eyes widened as he saw the plant. "Um . . ." he stammered.

"Tradition says that one must kiss under mistletoe," the old woman offered cheerfully. "Especially at Christmas."

"Um," McGee said again. "Right . . ."

The old woman rolled her eyes. "Well, go on then, kiss . . ."

"I do not even celebrate Christmas," Ziva told her, as though it might repel the old lady and her suggestions.

"And should that matter?" the lady asked. She smiled knowingly. "I think you should kiss now. Bad luck if you don't."

"I've never heard that," McGee said and looked puzzled.

"Old wives tale," the woman said smoothly, nudging Ziva forward with her walking stick.

Ziva hesitated and looked up again. The elderly woman sighed and said, "It's not going to kill you, you know. Kissing. Natural. Very human. If I was a few years younger, I'd have him."

McGee gulped and blushed furiously. "That's, err, very . . ."

Ziva laughed and McGee noted how attractive she looked when she laughed, not that she wasn't attractive naturally. She flicked her hair flirtatiously, and McGee suddenly had an overwhelming desire to kiss her.

"There is five people in front of you," the old woman pointed out. "That is five people until you reach the counter. I know attraction when I see it. I can be an old busybody when I want to." She winked at McGee.

"Do not be silly," Ziva said, "McGee does not want to kiss me." She laughed it off.

'That's where you're wrong,' McGee thought to himself. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, a thought he tried to attribute to the mistletoe, the old lady and the festive season.

The old woman smiled wisely. "That is what my husband said," she said softly, "and we have been married sixty years."

"We work together," Ziva said, almost desperately.

"So did we," the woman shrugged. "Sometimes the best relationships can come from an office."

"But . . . rule twelve," Ziva said helplessly. She was used to controlling her emotions and how she felt, but her overwhelming attraction towards McGee was threatening it.

"I don't know what this rule twelve is," the lady said bossily, "but it does not sound like a very good excuse . . ."

Jolting out his thoughts, McGee shook his head and told himself to do it. He had wondered for a long time what it would be like to kiss Ziva and now, if it went horribly wrong, he could blame it on the mistletoe. Plucking up the courage, he lent forward . . .

Ziva was in the process of coming up with another, more plausible argument as to why she should deny her attraction to McGee when strong hands pulled her waist forward and before she knew it, her lips were planted on McGee's.

After overcoming the initial shock, Ziva relaxed and discovered that McGee was a rather good kisser. His hands moved to cup her head as he kissed Ziva deeply; they had already gone far beyond the normal mistletoe kiss.

She parted her lips and allowed McGee to explore her mouth with his tongue. He was very good, Ziva thought blissfully. Ziva moved her hands to McGee's back and allowed them to wander lightly over his shirt as McGee continued to explore her mouth.

Finally realising that they were in a public place, they both pulled away at the same time, flushed. The elderly woman whistled and grinned behind them.

"That was . . . wow," McGee said, breathless. His eyes were wide and his face had a pinkish tinge to it.

"I am inclined to agree," Ziva said and smiled sultrily, making McGee even more tongue-tied.

"That . . . wow," McGee said again, almost as if he was in shook. "We have to do it again," he breathed and then looked horrified. "Not that you have to. Or here. Definitely not here. I . . ." he trailed off weakly and looked embarrassed.

Ziva smirked. "I would, perhaps, like to do it again also, Tim."

McGee's head shot up. "Really?" He looked disbelieving.

"Really," Ziva smiled softly. "But maybe after you have bought me dinner."

"Right, yes, of course," McGee spluttered and then added another, "Wow."

"See," the old lady said smugly. "I still have it." She sighed wistfully. "Young love, nothing like it."

Ziva slipped her hand into McGee's hand and squeezed it lightly, saying, "I look forward to our date." Then she grinned cheekily. "And perhaps round two?"

McGee grinned back. "Oh, you can count on that, Ziva."

_Finis_


End file.
